cosmiccat wrote:
He's a beautiful looking man. Someone I'd love to meet on a train and join for dinner in the dining car on a long ride across the country. Was he an artist or a writer? That's what I see in him. In the upper left of the picture, is that stained glass? Your mom too, looks like a beautiful being. Only sixty-two when she died. Too young, far too young.
He's a rather rude and abusive alcoholic. He can be charming, and you could indeed enjoy his company for short periods of time. He always liked my friends and brothers better than he liked me. I was not the kind of son he wanted. He wanted somebody who was more of a regular guy. He was a civil engineer. He wrote lots of technical reports. He was great at pourin' concrete, but his people skills sucked. Except for a brief telephone conversation when my mother died, I haven't spoken to him in about 20 years.
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"The cordial quality of pear or plum
Rises as gladly in the single tree
As in the whole orchards resonant with bees."
- Emerson